Ninth Life
by sunmountainsweets
Summary: After the disaster with Max Shreck and the Penguin, Bruce Wayne can't shake the feeling that Selina Kyle is still out there. Hugo Strange has left some unfinished business. I own nothing and don't claim to. Just wanted to write a Batman fanfic with the "returns" film as origin. The story is starting to blossom into something more.
1. Chapter 1

Nails scratched down his back in the darkness. He couldn't see her. He could smell her. He knew it was her. It was always her. Haunting him. As her hand trailed from his back to his chest he could feel her mouth close to his neck causing chills to rack his spine. "Bruce," she whispered.

He woke in a sweat. The room was pitch black but his night vision was well adapted from years in the darkness. "This is fucking ridiculous," he sighed as he raked both hands through his hair. Knowing sleep was a distant memory for the rest of the night, he made his way to the kitchen for some coffee.

Wayne manor was immense. Bruce had taken to living in the servant's quarters shortly after Alfred had passed away. Alfred was more than an employee to Bruce. He had raised him; molded him into the man he had become. It was a constant sting for Bruce. The grief always tucked away in the back of his mind along with that for his mother and father. Everyone he loved had left him. Killed too young and taken by cancer. And disappearing before he could have her…..

Bruce shook the memories away as his coffee spilled into his mug. The smell roused his brain and he resigned himself to forget about her once and for all. Any more dreams and he was going to go see the doctor. She was starting to interfere with everything in his life. The night before he was chasing a kidnapper and had veered away from the suspect in order to pursue a puff of cropped blonde hair. Her hair, her lips, those blue eyes. Everything about her face was forever etched in his memory.

It was Christmas time again and Bruce made sure to place a modest wreath around Alfred's Urn sitting on the counter. "Another one without you, old friend," Bruce smiled slightly remembering all of the fuss the old man had made during this time of the year. The mansion was always decorated to perfection with special attention to the tree. After she had disappeared, Alfred could sense a change in Bruce. Distractions, "healthy" ones he would call them, came in all forms from Alfred. He would throw large parties, invite board members from Wayne enterprises over for luncheons and dinners, buy Bruce ballet tickets and send him off to meet this woman or that woman with the hopes _she_ would disintegrate from his master's memory for good.

Nothing ever worked. Except for Alfred getting sick. Bruce didn't sleep for what felt like months straight as he sat by Alfred's bed side. Watching his life-long friend and mentor suffer through bouts of chemo and radiation with nothing working and having the argument about Alfred simply deigning to resign from the pain, was more than enough for him to put Selina Kyle out of his mind. Holding Alfred's hand as he drew his last breath was losing a father all over again.

The funeral came with floods of visitors. After everything was almost over, Bruce hadn't even thought of her. Then a card in the midst of all of the funeral flowers caught his attention. It was black. He had opened it with a sense of who it was from before he had even looked at the small pink letters inside. "I'm sorry," was all it had scrawled across the black paper.

After that card it had been nothing but months of obsessing. Without Alfred around to ground his consuming nature, Bruce had traveled around the globe following leads. Calling them leads now was laughable. She was gone. Since the night in the sewer when she had taken Max Shreck's life with what he thought was her own. She was gone.

Bruce closed his eyes tight and shook his head slightly to try and rid the memories. No matter how hard he tried his brain always found her. Chugging the rest of his coffee he rinsed the mug and headed down to the cave. Pent up years of frustration found its outlet in the form of training. Physical and mental. "Hello, Master Bruce," the automated voice of Alfred greeted him as he passed through the retinal scan at the bottom of the stairs. Bruce's mouth twitched into a half smile as he vaulted into the darkness.

* * *

The boy watched the Batman as he silently stalked his prey. The man never knew he was being watched. Never could sense the quiet, lanky teen who followed him everywhere. Batman's victim tonight was a known thug in Gotham who had been strong-arming local prostitutes into his service. The boy sat perched on a fire escape as the scene below him played out. Batman slamming the thug around a few times before handcuffing him to a street sign and sending the police an encrypted message to come and pick the villain up.

The boy always stayed well enough away from the bat to go unnoticed but was close enough to be mesmerized by his grace through every fight the boy had witnessed. After the bat took off on the cycle he had opted for during that night's crime-fighting, the boy hopped up the fire escape. His limps carried him over pipes and bricks to the rooftops of Gotham as though he was made for it. When he got to the top of one of the largest buildings he closed his eyes and listened for the tell-tale "vroom" of the bat-pod cruising through the city. His ears perched and he turned toward the sound maneuvering his body effortlessly over the building tops, a light-post, a roof-top, an alleyway, until his eyes watched the man he knew as the bat drive into the tunnel that would take him back to the cave. The base of his spine began to heat and he knew he had to check in. She would be waiting.

* * *

"Bruce?" Bruce was jarred back to reality by the soft voice of Lucius Fox, his closest friend since Alfred had gone.

"I'm sorry, Lucius, I've had so much trouble concentrating," Bruce shook his head and smiled apologetically at the man across the cafe table from him.

"It's quite alright," Lucius motioned for the waiter to re-fill their coffee and started over with his briefing, "All in all the foundation has been running smoothly. No corporate espionage to report or slime-ball vice presidents trying to undermine me this year." The pair of them chuckled at remembering numerous schemes throughout the years attempting to uproot the pair.

"I do have something important to talk to you about, Lucius." Bruce gulped his coffee too quickly and splashed a little on the table, "Dammit," he muttered and Lucius noticed, again, how his long-time friend had deteriorated since the death of Alfred. His face was sunken with hooded eyes. A shadow of a beard was a permanent part of his look these days. Lucius knew about his night-life, but something else was causing the drain in Bruce. Alfred's funeral was two years ago. Plenty of time, in his opinion, to come to terms. He was never one to pry but couldn't help but wonder what was really upsetting his friend.

"Well, whatever it is, I am only here to help you, Bruce. Is the bat flying too high these days?" Lucius never wholeheartedly approved of the batman. It was a constant source of contention between the friends, however, Lucius would never go against Bruce.

"No. In fact, it hasn't been flying nearly as much as it should be, my friend," Bruce sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his course, stubbly face, "Do you remember Selina Kyle?"

Lucius closed his eyes and let out an annoyed breath. Alfred had told him about this "catwoman" as the tabloids had coined her. Bruce's obsession with her after the Shreck scandal was a thorn in all of their sides. "How could I forget? You were gone for the better part of a year after Alfred died chasing this," Lucius paused before he spoke too harshly, "woman." He watched his friend's demeanor. Bruce was fidgety and nervous. Unlike he had ever seen him act the entirety of their relationship. It was unsettling.

"Yes. Same one," Bruce smiled reminiscently and closed his eyes. The wistfulness was worrying his friend across the table and Bruce knew it. But something was eating at him that he couldn't shake, "Well," he opened his eyes and continued, "I think someone has been following me. I never let them know that I can sense them. But they are there every night." Bruce drank more of his coffee, slowly, and continued, "I don't know why, but I think whoever is watching me," Bruce looked at Lucius carefully to gauge his reaction, "is someone connected to Selina."

Lucius smirked at Bruce and looked down at his watch, "The board meets in a half hour, Bruce. Am I to take away from this conversation that you will be indisposed for a lengthy amount of time?"

* * *

The small cottage on the outskirts of Gotham was worn down at best. Two stories of vine covered frame were tucked away behind a few miles of forested lycophyte trees. As the boy approached the dense mass of foliage, he closed his eyes and searched his mind for the connection to the woman. He smiled as he sensed her. He let her know that he was alone and the trees bent to allow his to pass, and from an outsider's point of view, swallowed him whole. Drastically warmer than the rest of the world.

As the forest guided him through he started to smell the feline presence. After a few minutes the first one appeared, a tabby with yellow eyes gently started trotting alongside of his brisk steps toward the cottage. Just like every time he made this trip, the first cat was a precursor to numerous members of her family ushering him to the cottage. By the time he emerged from the wood there were at least twenty of the various colored cats all around him. Nudging his legs and rubbing themselves against him lovingly. He knelt down in their hoard and stroked the heads of a few, allowing himself to giggle and enjoy the animals.

After a few moments the front door of the cottage creaked open and the boy stood back up. His warm smile dissolved into trepidation. No matter how many times he had made this journey to the women, he always felt a tinge of fear when the door opened. Slowly walking to the cottage entrance the cats mewed their goodbyes and he turned to smile at them once more. All of them scampered back into the tree line, as if they knew he was where he was supposed to be and their job as attendants was finished.

"Dr. Isley?" the boy called out quietly as he entered the cottage. He could see she must have just been in the front room. There were fresh flowery vines attached to the chair indicating her presence. The boy walked to the table to find a plate of treats. There were candies of all colors and cakes with flowery decorations. He knew better than to touch them without permission now. He had learned his lesson after the first visit to the cottage. Dr. Isley hadn't said a word when he reached for a sweet treat without permission but simply snapped her fingers and he was suddenly enveloped in vines. She left him there for a full week. When he would whimper from hunger pains the vines would prod his mouth until he realized he could suck the juice from them to sustain his life. She released him and smiled while she said, "I suppose you've learned your lesson regarding touching things that aren't yours to touch?" He had nodded fearfully and never touched anything again unless it was offered first.

" _Sweet_ boy," She had made her way to him. Not walking. The vines moved her along the floor of the cottage. His mouth always felt like cotton every time he came back to see her. She was the most beautiful and the most dangerous thing he had ever seen. Hair as red as apples and eyes greener than the ancient trees outside the door, she smiled with her purple lips at him. "You felt me summoning you back. Good," she placed her hand on his lower back and pressed the soft spot she had left there, "our connection is growing stronger."

"Yes, Dr. Isley." As if knowing she was about to test that connection he immediately started thinking of cherry blossoms. His mind was full of them; he was immersed. They were fluttering all around in his head. Finally he felt the blossoms hovering all around him. He smiled at the wonderment of it all and opened his eyes. Sure enough the blossoms he had imagined were made real by Dr. Isley. She could see what he was seeing and made it real. He laughed and met her eyes. She smiled warmly at him and allowed the blossoms to fall to the floor.

"You have brought news of the bat?" She sat back at her table and lifted the plate of delicacies toward him. He sat across from her and gently took a shiny piece of candy.

"Yes, Dr. Isley. Nothing out of his ordinary routine. He still doesn't know I've been following him. He stopped another man from hurting the women in Gotham and cuffed him. Then went back in the tunnel to his cave beneath his home." The boy sucked on the candy, twirling it around in his mouth. It vibrated with sweetness and changed to tangy and back to sweet as he enjoyed it. "Didja make a new flavor-", the woman across from him at the table flashed her green eyes at him and frowned. A thick black vine rose up from the floor and smacked him across the cheek. He met her eyes and frowned.

"What have I said about using proper speech, Eli?" Eli Strange rubbed his face and said a quiet apology.


	2. Chapter 2

The snow was falling in thick, wet fluffs as Bruce quietly observed the gangly youth who was "following" the batman. A few years ago Alfred and Lucius had worked on a bat-suit that would travel on an automated bat-pod. All he had to do was set the route and press go. He smirked at how easy it was to turn the tables on the youngster he had felt watching him these past weeks.

Bruce could tell the age of who he assumed was a male, was around 15 or 16. He was a tall kid, sitting around six foot, and was wearing dark clothes. As he made his way over buildings and trees, Bruce just kept up on foot, staying well enough behind to go unnoticed. The boy was so intent on his target. Bruce watched as he followed the pod to the edge of the city. It cruised through what looked like a solid wall of rock to the naked eye but Bruce knew it was another entrance to his cave. The boy must have gathered that as well because he stopped and stood still for a few minutes.

Something wasn't right. Bruce could see the boy's frame grow tense like he was in pain. Bruce started to move closer but stopped short when he could see a red glow emanating from the boy's lower back. "The fuck…," Bruce whispered. The glow vanished as quickly as it had appeared and Bruce could see him relax. The boy started to jog towards Bruce.

"Guess I'm not as stealthy as I thought I was-," Bruce started when the boy got close enough to hear.

"Or maybe you're losing your touch," the kid cut him off with a blank face. Bruce didn't know how to re-act. There was something unnerving about him. He just stood in front of Bruce for a few minutes before continuing in a soft tone, "I knew you weren't on the bike after you sent it from your mansion."

Bruce grinned and crossed his arms. The boy wasn't going to shock him. He was the batman. He was "the night", as others have said. And aside from all of the gravitas, Bruce was just tired. Nothing this teenage wonder said was going to unnerve his composure. "So why did you let me follow you following the suit? Did you have a big plan to try and make me feel foolish? Jokes on you kid, I'm too old to care."

"She told me to," the boy replied slowly. He smirked at the man behind the bat and took off in a full on sprint.

Bruce's expression fell and his arms undid themselves automatically. _She._ He hesitated for a split second before going after the boy. He was quicker than anyone without enhancements ought to be. _Of course there's something more to this kid_ , Bruce thought as he chased him through alleyways and streets. The boy finally decided to take the chase above ground and started swiftly climbing an apartment building from alley access.

"Nope," Bruce mumbled and looked at his watch. He could see that they were close to one of his caches all over Gotham City. A few clicks later he could hear the hum of his batwing beside him. He jumped, lunged forward, and he was cutting through air. In seconds he had caught up to the boy and was flying circles around him as he was running on a rooftop. The boy saw him, smiled and waved. Bruce laughed and waved back. The boy hopped to the next building with ease and jogged to a halt toward the center. Bruce maneuvered the bat shaped air-board towards the boy and hovered in front of him. There was no way he was getting down and risking the kid running off again, or doing something worse. Bruce couldn't tell if he was friend or foe.

"She wants me to ask you some questions," the boy said. Bruce looked at the kid for a few minutes before deciding to buzz to the rooftop.

"I have some questions of my own," Bruce replied sternly yet gently. The last thing he wanted was to scare the kid away. Although Bruce could gather he was going to stay put until "She" told him otherwise.

"I have permission to answer certain questions. But only if you answer mine first," the boy sat down cross-legged right there on the roof.

"So, here then?" Bruce asked and the boy nodded. "Ok. What's first?" Bruce kicked up the batwing on its top and leaned against it with ease.

The boy quietly sat and watched Bruce intently. Bruce held the boy's gaze, determined not to let him undermine his upper hand. _If I even have the upper hand_ , thought Bruce. His resolve started to falter and the boy could see it. The pair of them maintained eye contact as though it were life or death. The boy's eyes started to swirl and his irises transformed from their deep brown to a rich emerald green. They glinted in the cold moon light and Bruce was transfixed. The boy sensed when the man behind the bat was his and he rose to assist him to the floor of the rooftop they had landed on.

Eli gingerly laid Bruce on the ground and turned back to the contraption he had been chased with. Eli had never seen anything like it. Dr. Isley could feel the boy's fascination with the bat-toy and sent her approval through their connection. Eli felt his lower back heat and resonate around his body. A smile broke out across his features as he ran his fingers over the smooth black surface. "Where—," Bruce mumbled almost incoherently. Eli's head snapped up and he walked back over to the millionaire.

"We don't think you are ready. The doctor has changed her mind," and Eli went back to the bat-wing and tried to mount it. At first the thing stayed silent and cold on the rooftop. Snowflakes started to collect as the boy tried to figure out how to turn it on.

After a few minutes of nothing he slid his hand underneath the wing shape and felt small indentation. He applied a small amount of pressure and the batwing hummed to life and rose from the rooftop. It stopped a half foot from Eli as if waiting for him to step on. Eli's eyes widened and he almost couldn't help himself. Fearful of Dr. Isley's reprimand, he silently asked permission to ride the wing back to her cottage.

He felt as though he waiting for ages for an answer and was about to give up and just start back without it when the heat in his back flared up again. He jumped on the bat wing and zoomed through the air, and into the darkness, as though he was born to it.

* * *

Bruce was watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. After he was out of site, Bruce rose from the rooftop and casually scaled the fire escape down to the alley floor. As he walked towards the city center, he could feel the light buzz generating from his wrist indicating the tracker on the batwing was still intact. He needed to get back to the cave to get a visual on where the boy was going. _What a strange boy_ , thought Bruce. The red glow and the mind control tactics. But still, the boy seemed innocent; as if he was being controlled through a different source. "The doctor," Bruce muttered and his features twisted with confusion.

As the taxi cab stopped for Bruce's hail, he noticed the driver right away. "Hello, Ed," Bruce smiled warmly at his former foe, 'the riddler'. Three years in the basement of Arkham Asylum under the misguided treatment of Dr. Hugo Strange had left the man a stuttering mess. Bruce was notified of the abuse shortly before Alfred's death. Gut instinct drove him to put a stop to the injustice. The convicted that Strange was 'doctoring' did not deserve what had happened to them. Ed was one of the few who had been permitted to be released back into society under a very watchful parole board. Bruce was oddly proud of the man he once chased for months on end trying to thwart a terror attack. The duplicitous nature of Ed Nigma was successfully being held in check with medication.

"B-b-b," Ed took a calming breath and closed his eyes, "Bruce," he smiled at Bruce and continued, "Wh-where can I t-t-t-take you t-t-tonight?"

"Just up the hill to the manor," Bruce replied and rubbed his hands together in excitement to see where his batwing had been taken.

After paying Ed and watching the taxi drive back down the hill, Bruce turned quickly and bypassed the front door. He was almost around the corner when something green caught his eye. Her red lips close to his ear ran through his memory, "…can be deadly…". He got to the front door of Wayne Manor and scoffed in disbelief as his head dropped. There hanging on the frame, was a fresh mistletoe.

* * *

Dr. Pamela Isley watched her friend's weak form on the bed and smiled at the genius of her plan. Of course she hadn't really _told_ Pamela that she wanted a mistletoe planted on Wayne's front door. But the images in Selina's mind were vividly _Christmas_. There was always snow on the ground; always a mistletoe hanging in the middle of a large, decorated ballroom; always a tree in the center of the city lit with gold lights; always Bruce Wayne waiting for her in a fire-lit sitting area. Sometimes Selina's thoughts were so strong Pamela felt as though she, herself, was lusting after the bat-man.

So she placed the mistletoe on the manor as soon as Eli had let her know it was safe. The cold was hard to endure so she had emulated a muggy humidity in a bubble of her vines to get her there and back. The climate was always so hard in Gotham City and its outskirts. She could only survive here in the forest where she could manipulate all of the flora.

When she had first arrived to this forest she could sense the roots that ran deep in the planet. She could still remember the smell of her ancestors, begging her to rejuvenate them. So she crouched and placed both hands on the ground with as much intent as she could muster. She stayed there for three full days. What had sprung around her was a forest of ancient, _extinct_ lycophyte trees. Before she found the cottage where she would later bring her former rival, she wandered among them, committing everyone to memory. Connecting with the breath of life she had sprung for the world.

"Why are you smiling like me if I caught a canary," a weak voice jarred her back to the present. What was once a vibrantly yellow mass of curls had become almost ashen and listless against her forehead. Cheeks sunken and dark circles under eyes were a painful companion to her bluish lips. She struggled to breath around the words she had barely choked out. Selina Kyle was dying.

"Sssshhh," Pamela wound her fingers threw Selina's and urged vines to stroke her hair and cheeks in comfort. "Eli has spoken with the bat," Pamela spoke .slowly so her words could sink in with Selina.

"Leave," Selina struggled as her breath escaped in a rush and continued, "him alone." Her eyes slammed shut as her body convulsed slightly in pain. Pamela was at a loss now. Nothing she had tried was helping. Every remedy her plants had revealed, every drop of aloe, every oily sponge across Selina's brow. Not one thing helped. She was in worse condition than the day she had found her in an alley surrounded by cats.


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks ago, Selina Kyle was perched on the rooftop adjacent Dr. Hugo Strange's townhouse, thankful the maniac no longer lived there. But the home was hardly left vacant.

Selina had followed the story about batman's rescue of the criminal elite from Strange's hands. Something made her nose twitch when she would see his face in the tabloids. His eyes seemed to pierce the paper and bore into her when she would look too long.

As she watched the boy who was left behind through the upper story window, her mouth curved in a half smile. The kid intrigued her. His dark shaggy hair that hadn't been cut in months, combined with his crooked glasses, and clothes that were too baggy yet still too short for his tall build, made Selina feel bad for him. It was obvious had been neglected for years.

He was sitting in front of a laptop eating something from a bowl while she watched him. She wanted to talk to the kid. Something about the monstrous nature of Hugo Strange made her want to know if anything had happened to this boy left in his house. _Who was he? Why was he staying in Hugo Strange's house? Is he dangerous? Why do I even give a shit?_ The last question she had been asking herself since the very first night she started watching the house.

As though he could sense her thinking about him, the boy's frame stiffened and he put his bowl down on the desk. Selina got nervous and was about to bolt before anything got out of hand when a voice in her head stayed her. "I feel you."

The voice was like a punch in the gut. Her vision swirled and she fell back clutching her stomach in pain. She could hear the mewing alley cats'. They could feel her hurt and had been a part of her since she was brought back from the brink of blackness at Shreck's hands. Something was definitely wrong with the kid and now she felt regret creep in along with the pain. "Always too God damned curious, Kyle," she choked out.

In between convulsions, she made out the lanky form of the strange boy above her. Fear mixed with the crippling pain as he knelt down beside her. She tried to move away from him but her limbs seemed to stop working. Not knowing what else to do she screamed. Or she thought she was screaming. No sound was coming from her throat. Strong, warm hands grabbed her face and forced her to look at the owner, her eyes met his and he was whispering in her brain for her to calm down. He wanted to help her, he soothed her. She was struggling against the calm his hands and words were trying to force on her mind. Finally giving up, she opened up to him.

It was like she wasn't in control any longer. She could feel him rustling through her mind's many departments of memories, opinions, and strategies built up over a lifetime of collecting. He bypassed everything, frantically looking for something, or someone, specific. "Isley," his mind's voice felt like an icy cold breeze across her forehead. The pain subsided slightly and she could feel herself being lifted from the rooftop.

"What did you do-," Selina stopped mid-sentence as he forced his thoughts into her head. She could see everything of his life. A small boy in a cardboard box. The man loomed over him. His large, white-toothed grin sparkling in the darkness. Strapped to a hospital bed. The light was so bright.

Selina pushed back against the thought. She didn't want to see any of it. She didn't want to know anything anymore. She started to struggle against his form but he only held her tighter. "I need you to feel me too." Her eyes fluttered shut as she let the wave of unconsciousness envelope her.

* * *

Eli Strange gently placed the woman on the sofa in the dimly lit living room of his father's house. He hated himself. There was little to no control when it came to his mind. Something his father put there had been seeking Dr. Pamela Isley since the day the bat had thrown him in the very basement he had formerly made his playground.

He was scared of what would happen when he finally met Dr. Isley. The woman his father had called poison. The fear warped itself in the few moments after he found her in the catwoman's memory bank. It had morphed into fascination. He supposed it always had been that way; a hidden obsession beneath the fear of what his father had done to him.

The brain had been unlocked as his father frequently told him. Instead of nurture, his father would lecture him while poking and prodding. The first years of his life were spent with his head open. His father's grin constantly surrounding every horrid memory. Eli wasn't even sure if Hugo Strange was his real father. Hugo had told him that he was _his_ for as long as he could remember. The words father and son had never been uttered. Default told Eli that's what they were.

He didn't want to be a villain. He fought the brain every moment of the day. But when he felt the tug of Selina Kyle's mind-the pull of Dr. Isley's name buried there—there was no struggle. He willingly flowed into her thoughts and moved himself over her memory. When he gave in he became liquid. He was the smoke. The tension between not wanting to give into his ability and completely letting himself fall was wearing at him. 14 years old was enough to deal with. Being a new teenager without anyone to guide him, clothe him, feed him, or love him was even worse. But being a mind reader? Eli laughed out loud softly at the thoughts racing through his brain. He had learned at a very young age that feeling sorry for himself would get him nowhere.

Shaking himself of any more self-loathing he knelt close to Selina. _She is so pretty_ , he thought. He could see the pain on her brow. She wasn't the only person who had reacted to him this way. Multiple subjects his father placed in front of him over the years had gotten the same sickness. Each time Eli felt his world tear a little more and each time Hugo Strange would smile wider. Hugo Strange was a master at getting the results he wanted. Eli was a result. Pain was a result. The end trumped the means any day of the week for Hugo Strange.

Eli didn't know how to fix what he had done to Selina Kyle. His only hope was to find Dr. Isley to mend the broken connection that Hugo had placed on them. He placed his fingers gently on each of her temples. She jerked slightly with pain and the sweat on her brow beaded. He closed his eyes and called for Dr. Pamela Isley to answer him. _Gotham City. Selina Kyle. Sick._ He paused before he sent the last message across the temporal plain, _dying._

The word pushed through Selina's mind and her form racked itself into convulsions. Eli tried to hold her steady and forced his brain out of the equation. He soothed her with small sshh-ing sounds and pushed her curly hair off of her forehead. Not knowing what to do next he picked her up and moved back out to the alleyway.

"I can feel her coming. She will be able to fix everything. I am so sorry," Eli placed her gently down and backed away. She was getting closer. His back started to heat uncomfortably and he fell something was wrong. Wrong and yet so right. The connection was completing itself. Eli started to laugh as the tears rolled down his face.

* * *

Selina was weak. The cold air was heavy on her chest. Her body felt broken and yearned for the presence of her feline companions. They started to come slowly at first, one following the other until twenty or so were coursing around her frame laying on the icy pavement. Their power was buzzing around her. She could feel their strength emanate over her skin and into her bloodstream. A purr like chuckle started low in her throat and bubbled out across her lips.

Then they were gone. Scattered like leaves on a gusty day. And something had taken their place at her side. "Ivy?" Selina strained to open her eyes and sighed with relief at the sight of her displaced companion hovering above her.

"Sshh. I'm here now, Selina. Eli has told me what happened." Pamela closed her eyes and willed thick, black vines to burst through the concrete to gently wrap themselves around Selina's body. From there, Pamela took them both to the cottage in the woods.


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce was jarred awake by the smell of roses. The scent was so strong he was near gagging on his way down the steps. He knew who was in his mansion before he even opened his eyes. She was prone to invading his thoughts with sultry images of herself amidst flowery pheromones every time she got near him. After all of the years of cat and mouse with her, he had adapted a healthy distaste for Poison Ivy's brand of crop dust.

"Ivy," he stayed in the doorway of his dimly lit living room, tense with an easy air of relaxation. She observed him intently from a large petal she was sat on before slowly rising to her feet. He could tell she felt out of place. The instinct to fight was always fresh whenever they would have to meet. The last time he had seen her he had needed help with a toxin that had been poured into Gotham's water supply. He found her back in the amazon jungle and she had begrudgingly helped him identify the chemical make-up so he was able to bring the joker's daughter to GCPD for trial. Being the good girl was a hard pill for Dr. Pamela Isley to swallow, but the alternative cold, grey cell waiting on the opposite end of the moral spectrum was enough to keep her from swaying back to her old ways.

"Bruce Wayne. Batman. Asshole. What are you going by these days?" She stayed still and watched his reaction to her attempt at humor, still on edge. Bruce grinned and came to sit down on the sofa next to where she stood and she relaxed slightly and rested back on her leafy, pink chair.

"What do you need, Pamela?" Bruce didn't want to fight with her. So he intended to keep the conversation easy for her benefit and take any jabs she might take at him.

"The boy from the rooftop earlier tonight," she hesitated when she saw his jaw clench, "His name is Eli Strange." Eli's family name caused the reaction from Bruce that Pamela expected. The whole world knew about Hugo Strange and the Batman. But Pamela knew the mad doctor better than most.

"I had no idea," Bruce began, "I thought that son of a bitch was alone. How," he shook his head and laughed a bit with disbelief, "Of course he has a fucking son. Why wouldn't he?" He put his face in his hands and could feel the weariness bubble in his gut. He was so tired. He just wanted to find Selina. Hearing that boy's reference to _her_ had caused him to blindly follow him thinking she was at the other end of the tunnel. He would never have thought the kid was talking about Pamela Isley.

"Before you jump to any conclusions about him I have to tell you some things." She stated calmly and observed Bruce for a few minutes. He held her gaze and nodded gently, accepting that she was here to play nice. "Right. Hugo Strange was," she stopped herself remembering that the monster was still alive in a hole somewhere, "is a terrible man. I don't know if you ever uncovered in all of your digging trying to catch him, that he had me in his clutches while I was a girl." The concern that adorned Bruce's features caused a strange reaction in her heart. The feeling was foreign to her and she chased it away by continuing, "I was taken from an alley on the east side on the city and thrown into a basement when I was about ten. My parents didn't notice I'm sure and I never found them to ask," she paused to close her eyes. She hated these memories but Bruce needed to know about Eli. And that meant knowing about this part of her past. "Long story short, Hugo Strange had me in his mad lab for forgotten children for two years before I outmaneuvered his guards and got away. Two years is a long time to collect and analyze one subject. I don't know what he took, but I do know I was cut and tested every day."

"Pamela…." Bruce began. Her eyes found his and she smiled cruelly. He felt sorry for her. Of course he would.

"Don't, Bruce. I didn't come here for your pity. I don't need it and I certainly don't want it." She stood up and slowly started to pace the living room. Small, curling vines and flowers sprang to life with her steps. She continued, "Whatever Hugo Strange collected from me in those two years, he has manipulated into Eli." She still didn't understand what or who Eli was herself. But she knew he wasn't bad. "I have been feeling a pull back to Gotham City for a few years. But a few weeks ago the pull evolved into something more." She turned to face him, "Eli has been searching for me. He has been quietly sifting through the thoughts of people who pass him by. Those people, I have learned, have since died because of his poking around." She paused on purpose and watched Bruce.

He stood walked to the cabinet on the opposite side of the room. He blew the dust out of a glass and started to pour himself a whiskey. "Pamela, I am sorry for what has happened in your past. I am sorry this kid is poisonous. But if you are here to ask me to look the other way when he has inadvertently caused innocent people to die—,"

"He found me in Selina's mind." Bruce dropped the cup on the floor and the chucks of thick crystal scattered all around them. His frame slumped and the pain in his body was unexpected and quick. The thought of her dead was too much and he melted to the ground where he found his hands with his face. Self-control was nowhere to be found and the composure Pamela was used to in the man behind the mask were gone.

"You love her too," She whispered. The disbelief that these two broken people could feel love that would break the strongest resolve caused Pamela to giggle slightly, "Bruce!" She smiled wider, "Selina isn't dead!"

He turned to face her, "What? I thought you said-,"

"I know what I said. But she is stronger than most. Eli placed her where her feline masses could get to her. They staved off whatever was eating at her from Eli's head. But she is weakening. The cats aren't helping any more. I came here tonight to ask you to help me help her. I can't ask Eli to leave. We are connected somehow and I can't risk losing that connection. But I think Selina needs to be away from him." She couldn't finish. Bruce had cut her off by dialing his cell phone. Her brow furled with agitation as she listened to the conversation.

"…Full staff immediately. I want your best people." He clicked the screen off and found her eyes. "I want her here now. Where is she?"

"Your bat-wing you were tracking. I am curious why you didn't follow it?" This had annoyed Pamela. She had let Eli take the damn thing in order for Bruce to follow him. She could have avoided seeing him all together and just taken Eli and gone. But when he didn't come, the gray of Selina's face forced her to come to him.

"The signal was lost just outside Gotham." Her forest had blocked it.

"My trees," Pamela smiled with adoration at her ancestor's ability to block modern tech. They were proving to be very useful allies. She waved her hand to dismiss any questions he was forming. "You get ready. I will have her here in less than 30 minutes."


	5. Chapter 5

Relief. Like an asthmatic kicking the cat out of the house, Selina Kyle felt like she could breathe again. She was almost afraid to open her eyes, not wanting this feeling to flutter away with full consciousness. She risked it, though, and was surprised to find that there was no pain waiting for her. She clenched her fingers. The stretch and pop of each knuckle made her purr with satisfaction. Her toes curled as she tightened every muscle in her body and let them slowly relax. _Yes._

The room she found herself in was the exact opposite of where she had been suffering for the last couple of weeks. Dark, blank walls surrounded the large black four poster bed that she was currently engulfed in. The down comforter and feather-filled pillows almost swallowed her up. She was scared of the ache in her head if she tried to sit up but gauged the risk was worth it.

Aside from some fuzziness, her head wasn't throbbing like she had expected. She almost felt like new again. Her stomach was still aching, but for the right reasons. She gathered she hadn't eaten any solid food since before collapsing on the rooftop. "Well, fuck," she muttered. She knew where she was; who was waiting outside of the door. The jig was up so they say, and she couldn't avoid him any longer.

She had almost gotten away scot-free. Until news of Alfred's death found her. Ignoring her feelings for Bruce had become the driving force behind her search for distractions across the globe. But seeing "BELOVED WAYNE BUTLER DIES OF CANCER" scrawled across her newsfeed was enough to ignite them all over again.

The funeral had looked nice enough from the distance she had observed from. After everyone had left the chapel, she had silently placed the card among the rest of the sympathies. She knew she shouldn't have, but her narcissism coupled with wanting to distract Bruce from the pain was just enough push.

The funny thing is she never left Gotham after she placed that card. Bruce took off in all directions trying to find her and she was right under his nose. While he was gone she would meander through the mansion. Memorizing the way his aftershave and comb were placed on his vanity, running her fingers over where his head would be nestled on his pillow, staring for hours at the retinal scanner leading to the bat-cave, wondering how she could break-in.

Now she was here. The music was loud, blaring really, and ready for her to face it. Bruce Wayne was waiting outside this door. She had wanted him for so long while denying herself the pleasure of giving in that she was clueless at how to approach him now.

She noticed that someone had put her in a pair of silky black pajama pants and button up shirt. _Great_. _It was probably him. He was probably insanely gentle and considerate and…,_ she shook her head and blew a great puff of air upward. Well they were great PJs.

The floor was cold so she chanced it and looked around the bed. There were a pair of overly large, fluffy, black kitten slippers. The giggle that escaped her lips was the cherry on top of a weird trip back to reality.

After putting the too-perfect slippers on, she crept to the bedroom door and creaked it open. No one was waiting for her. She was admittedly surprised that Bruce wasn't in the hallway waiting for her to wake up. She shrugged it off and continued out into the Wayne mansion.

As she carefully tiptoed through the hallways to the stairs, a smell caught her attention. _Fuck me,_ she thought as her stomach growled with abandon, "Yeah, yeah, calm down." She scolded her body and proceeded to the kitchen.

And there he was. _God he is beautiful_ , she thought as she watched him slouched over the counter chopping something while onions and bacon were sizzling on the stovetop. His body was everything she remembered. Tight muscles were visible through the plain white tee he was wearing and a loose pair of grey sweat pants hugged his narrow hips.

"Selina," he said casually, as though everything were normal, "I'm guessing you feel better?" He turned and her breath caught. The stubble that started to grow suited him. His deep brown eyes caught hers and he grinned. This reaction is why she hated being around him. He knew the affect he had on her and that knowledge was enough for her to stay away from him.

She moved her puffy curls out of her eyes and crossed her arms, "I don't know what to say." And that was true. Should she apologize for alluding him for literally three years? Thank him for bringing her back to health? Yell at him for being everything she needed and wanted but couldn't have? An agitated sigh escaped her mouth and she crossed the kitchen to sit on one of the bar stools by the coffee maker. "You think it's safe to try some? I haven't had anything to sustain me aside from Ivy's weird plant juice for too God damn long."

"Well you've had some broth and LOTS of water since Pamela brought you here." He put the knife on the counter gently and lowered the heat on the stove. "I let a troupe of cats from the alley through your room a few times in the last week and they seemed to help." He grinned at her as he kept getting closer to where she was sitting. Her body tensed with every inch he gained. "I have been biding my time and nursing you back to health." His hands found her upper arms and he lifted her off of the chair and onto the counter top. Her legs opened to allow his body to rest there as he continued, "Now that you are on the up and up," he face was so close to hers she could feel the electricity from his slight beard millimeters from her skin, "I am not waiting anymore." And with that his mouth caught hers in a kiss.

His lips were crushing as he inhaled her. She matched him with every stroke of her tongue as she wrapped her arms around his head. There was an urgency in his kissing and she could feel him throbbing against her through the silk pajamas. She didn't want him to be gentle with her. She wasn't broken. So she whispered in his ear, "tear them off and fuck me." Her words got the reaction she had been yearning for since that night on the rooftop when she stuck him in the side with her claw.

He loosed himself from his sweatpants and a loud rip echoed through the kitchen as he tore the pajama bottoms from her. The pull against her skin from the fabric made her ready and she grabbed him. He slid into her hard and fast. The strokes were frenzied and she yelled in pleasure, "Bruce!"

Hearing his name on her lips was enough to send him right over the edge. He couldn't hold it back anymore as he spilled into her. He buried his face in her neck and just stayed for a minute, memorizing the scent of her. She was here. Surrounding him; purring sweet gasps in his ear while moving her hands over his back. He shuddered and grabbed her face with his hands so she was looking him in the eye. The blue was crystal clear and they met his gaze and held it. She was here. "I have been looking for you since that night in the sewer, Selina." He didn't break eye contact but moved away slightly and gently let her face go, "Why have you been hiding from me?"

He always made her feel uncomfortable with his familiarity. Her features scrunched up into a confused frown as she looked down. Then she started to laugh at the state of herself. Pants shredded and bunched while sitting in a pool of wetness on the counter. She looked at Bruce and he smirked knowingly as he pulled his pants back up. "Any other fancy pants PJs up in the room I was in?" She slid off of the counter top and balled up the ripped pair to throw them away. Bruce caught her wrist gently with his hand and took the ripped silk from her hand. He threw them in a bin to the side and then laced his fingers through hers. He pulled her close to him and put his free arm around her back. The stance pulled her back to that wintry night at the Shreck Christmas party and she closed her eyes to bask in the memory that had kept her up nights. Her head found its way to his shoulder and he started to move them slowly back and forth on the tiled floor. Tears started to stain her cheeks and his shoulder, "Bruce," she whispered, "I don't deserve you. Don't you get that by now?"

Her shaky confession didn't cause him to stop their tone-less slow dance in his kitchen. "Well," he answered with authority, "I don't deserve you either, Selina. But what kind of piss-poor excuse is that for the pair of us to live in misery away from each other?" His hand that was cradling her against him moved to caress her bare bottom and she chuckled. He slapped the cheek lightly and moved for her to face him. "I haven't felt more at peace since Pamela brought you through my front door in my entire life. Chasing people all over a city that can take me or leave me just trying to find some fulfillment." He paused and wiped the tears from her face, "You are everything I need. I just didn't know it until I saw you kill yourself with Shreck. I thought you were gone and my gut felt like it was being ripped in half." He watched her closely at his confession. Her eyes glinted with the realization that his feelings for her were very real.

"I don't know how to love you, Bruce." Being vulnerable wasn't her strong suit and standing literally half naked was nothing compared to baring her true insecurities to the one person in her life she truly loved. Feeling that love and knowing what to do with it were different things and running away from Bruce Wayne was the only coping mechanism she'd had left. Now Pamela had taken that from her. She was being forced into bliss and it felt like she was drowning. "I can't be happy." Bruce kept watching her. She was fidgeting from foot to foot and wringing her fingers through his.

"Selina," he started in a breathy voice, already heavy with wariness, "I don't want you to try to love me or force yourself to be in some kind of box ready happiness. I just want you. Here." He placed her hand on his chest and she could feel it beating soundly under her touch, "Please," he pleaded in a low voice.

There was a pop and sizzle from the stove and Selina's stomach growled in response. "Shit," Bruce hurried to the stove and tried to rescue the burning breakfast. "It's not too far gone, as far as bacon goes," He turned around to show her.

But she was gone.

* * *

Thank you all for reading! I hope the sex scene wasn't too much or too little :) Please review! Side-note: I don't really know what is happening with this story... I literally just start typing and crap pours out HAHAHAHA.


	6. Chapter 6

Selina slammed the door to the bedroom upstairs in the Wayne Mansion and sunk to the floor. Why she was so damn scared of letting herself just be happy with Bruce Wayne was a mystery she was forever trying to solve. Her head rested on her knees as she struggled to bring her breathing back down to a healthy pace. Heartbeat after heartbeat was ringing in her ears and slamming against her chest.

Bruce could see the thin dark shadow underneath the door and heard her muffled sobs. This territory of psychoses was out of his reach. He wanted her to be happy but didn't know how to help her overcome her anxiety at the thought. He rested his hand and forehead against the door and he whispered, "Selina, I'm here."

Her head popped up and the realization that his patience would trump anything else sprang into her mind. _God, I'm a fucking mess_ , she thought. Standing up and slowly turning to face the door, she placed her hand on the cool dark wood. _Breathe in_ , she took the air in through her nostrils slow and steady.

"Breathe out," Bruce spoke quietly. She released the breath out of her parted lips and a smile crept onto her face. She opened the door slowly and peered at him through the inches between it and the door frame.

"Thank you," she said, "I'm sorry for being an idiot."

"Selina," Bruce's eyes looked tired as he closed them and smiled, "God I love saying your name." her heart leapt in her chest and she opened the door wider, "You are not an idiot. You've made me an idiot, fool, smitten school-boy these past years chasing you around. But," He nudged the door open a little wider and she allowed him to bring her close to her in a gentle embrace, "You are the most beautiful and intelligent woman I have ever been scratched by." He could feel her chuckle in his arms.

Her hands rested on his chest and she gazed into his eyes. "I want to stay. I want to love you. I want to be loved back by you. I can't promise that I will be conventional, or even pleasant. But it's almost Christmas and," a tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek, "I want to be on your sofa in front of the fireplace watching some random bimbo light the tree in town square."

"Whoever said that convention and being pleasant were the key to happiness was a damned fool," Bruce said and wrapped his arms even tighter around her. He was never going to let her go. She was finally his.

And he was always hers.

THE END.

Stay tuned for Poison Ivy and Eli Strange's story! Selina and Bruce will be showing up there for sure! But I opened a vein while writing "Ninth Life" and now I HAVE to see that to the end! Thank you for reading and I hope you stick with my cooky short stories from my version of Gotham City and the characters birthed there! Special thanks to CINEMA NERD for the great reviews!


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